


5 Times Mrs. Kippen Suspected her Son was Gay + 1 Time it was Confirmed

by TyrusStillLives



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, T.J.'s a disaster gay, it's really just pure, little T.J.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 04:16:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19967896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyrusStillLives/pseuds/TyrusStillLives





	5 Times Mrs. Kippen Suspected her Son was Gay + 1 Time it was Confirmed

i.

“What does a crush feel like?”

The question came on a particularly random day. T.J. was sitting in the car on the way home from daycare. Mrs. Kippen looked into the rearview mirror to see her boy. Her eight year old son’s wide eyes stared down at his hands in his lap. He looked shy, uncertain. Maybe a bit ashamed.

“Well,” Mrs. Kippen starts, “When I was your age I had the biggest crush on a boy in my class. His name was Will. I would get really nervous around him, but I’d also be happy. My hands would get all clammy, and I’d feel a fluttering in my chest. Of course, at that time, I just thought that I wanted to be really good friends with him.”

T.J. giggled, but he stayed quiet. He didn’t respond. He kept his eyes cast down to his hands, and he seemed uncomfortable with her response.

“Is there maybe a girl?” she asked.

“No,” T.J. responded hastily. He was clearly hiding something. There was another question burning in the back of her mind. Mrs. Kippen knew from that moment what he was going through, but she wanted to live in blissful ignorance for now. She knew the world wasn’t always kind to people who were different. She knew her boy would deal with prejudice, and she wanted to keep them both naive for at least a bit longer. She wondered who it was that had caught her boy’s eye. She hoped he was nice. She hoped he would be gracious if T.J. ever let his feelings be know. She hoped that her son would feel comfortable enough to talk to her about it when he was ready, but now she could only give vague advice.

“Well, I have some advice for when there is,” she said finally, “There’s this idea in society that a boy will be rude to you when he wants to get your attention, but, if you truly want a—someone to like you, you need to treat them with kindness and respect. Okay, honey?”

“Okay,” T.J. said, nodding in response. Stopping at a red light, Mrs. Kippen reached her hand back to still her son’s hands and smile at him comfortingly. She promised herself that she would learn all she could about how to support her son.

——————

ii.

Mrs. Kippen noticed a change in her son when he awoke in a panic one Saturday morning. With his hair unkempt and a pair of worn down gym sweats on, Mrs. Kippen walked into his doorway to find him rummaging through his closet with a pre-set suit and tie already on his bed.

“Mom,” he said, not even looking behind him to see her, “Do you know where my green button up shirt is?”

“You wore it to church last Sunday,” she reminded him, “I took it to the dry cleaner.”

T.J. groaned as he whipped around and picked up his blue shirt from his desk chair. He looked unsatisfied with it. As if he were trying to work out a puzzle and the shirt he was holding was just not fitting.

“What’s wrong with that one?” she asked him.

“It’s not that it’s wrong,” he said, “I just don’t think it’s right. What if Cyrus is wearing blue and it’s like a thing where you’re not supposed to wear the same color as the person getting Bar Mitzvahed.”

“I’m fairly certain that’s not a thing, darling,” she said. Her words didn’t seem to calm T.J. down one bit. He still had a wide-eyed face of panic on his face, and he seemed frozen in fear.

“Do you think I’m over-dressing for this?”

“No, Bar Mitzvahs are generally really fancy,” she said.

Her words seemed to do nothing but send her son further into a panic. “Should we have rented a tux?” T.J. questioned, his eyes furrowed in fear.

“No, you absolutely don’t need a tuxedo,” she said, trying to keep her son sane, “Why don’t we put on this suit and see how it looks, okay?”

T.J. nodded and made a shooing movement with his hand so he could change into his suit. His mother quickly backed out of the room, and her son slammed the door after her. She couldn’t help but smile to herself at T.J.’s panic over something so frivolous. She’d never seen him get so worked up about the clothing he wore, and she had a feeling that it had something to do with the fact that he seemed very interested in impressing his new friend. She was of course happy to see that he finally had a good, healthy friendship in his life, but she was also becoming aware that her son perhaps thought more of the boy. That was a conversation she’d have at a later date. She didn’t need to push the subject because her son was already nervous enough, and she was not sure if he’d even had that conversation with himself. Mrs. Kippen was broken out of her thoughts when her son opened the door. He looked uncertain, but the shirt and suit jacket he wore made him look grown up in a way she hadn’t seen before.

“You look so handsome, son,” Mrs. Kippen said giving his arm a squeeze.

T.J. half smiled and held up his tie, defeated. “I can’t figure out how to tie this well.”

“I’ll do it,” she said. She grabbed the tie and began to make quick work of it. “Your father wasn’t very good with this either. I used to help him with it every morning, so I got pretty good at it.” She smiled at the thought of her late husband. She knew T.J. didn’t remember much about him so it was up to her to keep his memory alive. When she was done with the tie, she moved to fix her son’s messy hair.

“I can do my own hair,” he said, moving away from her hand and walking into his bathroom. His mother followed him into the bathroom and watched as he squirted out a giant dollop of hair gel into his palm.

Before he can put it to his hair, his mom said, “You’re not really going to use all of that, right?”

“My hair needs to look perfect,” he said.

“T.J., subtlety is better,” she said grabbing his wrists. “You really only need a little bit. Let me help, okay?”

“I’m not five years old,” T.J. said. There was an edge to his voice, but he let his mother begin to style his hair. His shoulders hunched in defeat.

His mom ignored his comment and dabbed her finger into the gel in her son’s hand. “I know that impressing people seems like the most important thing in the world at your age, but it’s really better to just be yourself.”

“Being myself has just scared everyone away,” T.J. grumbled.

Mrs. Kippen wanted to weep at that statement. She knew her son had struggled with his image. It seemed like self-consciousness was just an inevitable part to being a middle schooler, but T.J. had recently been showing signs that it was maybe a bigger deal than he liked to let on. While Cyrus made him happier, he also made him stress out a bit more than usual.

“Cyrus doesn’t seem to be scared,” she said.

T.J. didn’t respond. His mom hoped that it was because he was actually listening to her for once, but she knew it was probably just giving up on convincing her. As her son left the house that day, Mrs. Kippen made sure to remind her son of how dapper he looked. He really was growing up fast.

—————

iii.

Mrs. Kippen knew something was wrong when her son came home with a frown on his face. He had been so excited to introduce Cyrus to his other friends. His mom was cautiously excited. Reed had never really been her favorite and she worried about the influence he had over her son. Cyrus was a much better influence, but T.J. was determined to intertwine his friendship with the others in his life. She knew something would go wrong. And something did. Reed just had to bring his father’s gun with him to their hangout.

She was proud of her son for doing the right thing. He only came home to make sure that telling the police was absolutely the right thing to do because he was hesitant to rat out his life-long friend. She knew, however, that the whole situation had put him in a difficult position and he was currently trying to salvage his friendship with Cyrus.

T.J. came home one day and sat at the bar stool in front of his mother.

“Mom,” T.J. said, “What do you do when you know you did the right thing, but it still hurts?”

Mrs. Kippen paused. She looked up at her son who looked exhausted and on the verge of tears. It was painful to see. “Is Cyrus still not talking to you?”

“It’s like he wants to, but his friends aren’t letting him,” T.J. said. “Like, today we made eye contact in the lunchroom and he looked like he was coming over to me, but they grabbed him and turned him away.”

“They’re just trying to protect him,” his mother reasoned.

“I know,” T.J. said, “I just wish I could explain myself.”

She saw the tears begin to fall from his eyes, and she moved to wrap her arms around her son. She ran her fingers through her son’s hair as he shook with silent tears.

“Just be patient,” she said. “They’ll come around.”

“Will they though?” T.J. asked. “I’ve screwed up so many times already, and maybe this is the time they don’t forgive me.”

It hurt to see her son so broken up about this situation that is so out of his control, but she only hoped that Cyrus’s friends would come around soon enough. She could only squeeze him tight and provide comfort for him.

—————

The next day, T.J. came home with a smile on his face, so Mrs. Kippen could only assume Cyrus had talked to him again. From that moment on, she noticed a change in her son. If she thought his poker face was bad before, it was nothing compared to the new version of T.J. He talked about Cyrus constantly and was unable to keep his face from flushing whenever he did. He was constantly hanging out the the boy, sometimes at their home. She could tell Cyrus had similar feelings for T.J. too. The boy was constantly smiling around her son, and he got flustered when the subject of dating came up. She knew it was only a matter of time before the two were officially dating.

She kept quiet, though. She’d read on Facebook support groups that it’s better to be quiet about what you suspect and let your child come to you. So she waited. She talked openly about LGBT issues with T.J. to let him know what side of the debate she was on, and she made it clear that he could talk to her about anything. It was taking a long time for him to come to her, but she was patient.

\---------

iv.

Mrs. Kippen was in the study when she heard the printer come to life. At eight o’clock on a Saturday morning, she was not expecting her son to be up for another couple of hours, so the sound of the printer startled her.

She stood up from her desk chair to see what was printing and was even more surprised to see a bread recipe. T.J. was going to a funeral reception sort of thing for Cyrus today, and she could only assume that this was for that. 

“Can I see that?” T.J. asked. Mrs. Kippen jumped for the second time that morning. She handed the paper over without a second thought.

“You’re planning on baking that yourself?” she said as her son began to look over the recipe.

“Yeah,” he said, “How hard could it be?”

Mrs. Kippen smiled at her son’s classic confidence despite the fact that he’d never cooked anything more than pancakes and scrambled eggs. It was admirable even though it got him into a little trouble when he crossed into the realm of cocky.

“You better get started,” she said, nudging her son out of the room with an affectionate smile.

—————

“Mom, can you come in here?” T.J. yelled from the kitchen. Mrs. Kippen was absolutely not surprised when T.J. pleaded for her help. She knew it was only a matter of time. She let out a laugh as she made her way into the kitchen to find her son in a mess of flour and a look of confusion gracing his face.

“How do I sift these ingredients without getting it everywhere?”

Mrs. Kippen shook her head and began to show him how to make it. After about twenty minutes, they were finishing up the dough. T.J. was stressed. He ran a hand through his hair, effectively covering it with the white powder. When he realized his mistake, he nearly cursed under his breath.

“I don’t have time to watch this and take a shower,” T.J. said, clearly becoming stressed, “I’m already going to be late as it is.”

“Okay, why don’t you go get in the shower?” Mrs. Kippen said, “I’ll watch this for you.” She punctuated her sentences with a squeeze of her son’s cheek. Despite the death glare from him, Mrs. Kippen earned a mumbled ‘thank you’ from T.J. as he swiftly existed the kitchen and ran up the stairs.

—————

T.J. seemed fidgety on the car ride to the Shiva. He knew he was a few hours late, and he kept jumping every time his phone buzzed. He held on to the Challah, presumably to keep his hands from fumbling. At least he wasn’t reaching up to fix the hair that he had checked about thirty times. She honestly didn’t know if he was even trying to be subtle at this point. If so, he was epically failing.

As he stepped out of the car, Mrs. Kippen said to let Cyrus know she was thinking of him. She gave him an extra kind smile, and he turned to enter the Goodman household.

—————

v. 

Mrs. Kippen really tried to always be there for her son. Work often got in the way of his basketball games, so she was glad that he usually had friends like Buffy and Cyrus there to support him. She was glad, though, when she found someone to take her shift so she could be there for her son’s final home game. It was the game that determined whether or not they would go on to the championship. It was a close game. Mrs. Kippen watched with bated breath as her son caught the ball from behind the three pointer line. With three seconds left on the clock, he released the ball from his hands. Time slowed as it flew through the air and landed cleanly in the basket.

T.J. was nearly tackled by his teammates in their celebration as the crowd in the stands went wild, Mrs. Kippen included.

She began to make her way towards her son on the court, but she quickly noticed Cyrus run into his arms. The boy was wearing a Jefferson basketball hoodie despite clearly not being on the team. She could only assume that her son had let Cyrus borrow his hoodie, which was something usually only reserved for a player’s girlfriend. Her heart swelled with pride at his ability to be so openly friendly with Cyrus: a boy who would probably be considered ‘uncool’ by the popular crowd.

Her son’s face broke into the biggest smile she had ever seen as he lifted the boy in a hug. Mrs. Kippen decided to wait for a bit to let the two boys have their time together. After all of the uncertain times her son faced with his friendships, it was heartwarming to see him so happy with Cyrus. One of T.J.’s teammates slapped him on the back and whispered something in his ear, making his cheeks turn red. It was a rare moment of shyness, but it confirmed all suspicion Mrs. Kippen had about her son’s feelings for his friend. A soft smile made its way onto her lips as she watched the two interact. Cyrus spoke animatedly with expressive hand motions. He must have been recounting the game because he made a (albeit very improper) basketball-shooting movement. The effort was pretty adorable, and, despite all the noise and movement around them, T.J.’s eyes never left the boy’s face and the lovesick grin remained plastered on his face. 

After a few more flirtatious pats and the addition of another person to the circle (this one a girl with dark curly hair and a boot on her right foot), it became clear that they weren’t going to leave for a while. Mrs. Kippen began to make her way over to her son, and she couldn’t help but notice that Buffy only got a “bro-hug” (as her son referred to it). Perhaps they just weren’t as close, but Mrs. Kippen suspected there was more to it than that.

T.J.’s face flashed to an almost guilty expression for a split second when he saw her before changing to a smile as he leaned in to hug her.

“My boy is a champion!” Mrs. Kippen shouted as she gave him an extra tight squeeze. It was meant to reassure him, but she doubted that he actually got the point.

T.J. looked embarrassed and insecure, and Mrs. Kippen was unsure if that was from the congratulations from her or if it was from him getting caught flirting with Cyrus

“I hate to interrupt,” Mrs. Kippen said, “But I hardly get to go to my son’s games.”

“Oh no please!” Cyrus stammered, “Buffy and I actually have somewhere to be.”

“Aww,” T.J. said, looking directly and solely at Cyrus “I was hoping you two would be there to celebrate.”

“Next time, buddy,” Buffy said, giving T.J. a pat on the shoulder. “You played really well.”

“Thanks Buff,” T.J. responded with a prideful smile.

“We will be there at your championship games,” Cyrus promised before pulling T.J. down into a hug. Her son’s arms wrapped around Cyrus as if by instinct and lingered there as they pulled away. Noticing her standing there again, they both looked down bashfully. After collecting himself, Cyrus nodded to her and said, “It was lovely to meet you, Mrs. Kippen.”

“You too,” she responded. Cyrus began to walk away, and her son’s eyes stayed glued to the boy.

“Oh, do you want your sweatshirt back?” Cyrus said from a few feet away. He had turned around to face them and ask the question.

“No, you keep it for the next game,” T.J. responded, “It looks good on you.”

Cyrus’s cheeks reddened at her son’s statement. The boy bit his lip in a smile before turning around and following Buffy out of the gym.

“He’s always so sweet,” Mrs. Kippen said.

“Yeah,” T.J. responded. He was still a little dazed and distracted from Cyrus, and a bashful smile seemed permanently etched onto his face, “Yeah he is.”

————-- 

+i

T.J. couldn’t remember a time in his life when he’d been quite this nervous. The prospect of coming out to his mom seemed simple. He’d come to suspect that she might have already figured it out, and, even if she hadn’t, he knew she’d be accepting. But on the day he was actually supposed to do it, T.J. was filled with doubts.

He paced around his bedroom as Cyrus sat on his bed desperately trying to calm him down.

“Teej, can you please sit down?” Cyrus said. T.J. didn’t respond. Instead, he continued to pace as if he hadn’t heard his boyfriend’s plea. “Babe!” Cyrus whined as he pulled T.J. onto the bed (with much difficulty). T.J. couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at his lips at the sound of Cyrus calling him babe, but it was undermined by the fear he felt at what he was about to do.

He looking into Cyrus’s eyes, silently searching for the support that he could always find inside them. “You’ll be okay,” Cyrus said, stroking T.J.’s cheek with his thumb, “I’ll be right beside you.” T.J. nodded and gripped onto Cyrus’s other hand for grounding as Cyrus kissed him on the cheek.

“Boys! Dinner!” Mrs. Kippen yelled from the kitchen. 

“We’ll be down soon!” Cyrus shouted back, knowing that T.J. wouldn’t be able to respond without sounding nervous. Cyrus stood up from the bed and pulled T.J. up with him and into his arms. He whispered encouraging phrases into the boy’s ear as he held him tight. He felt T.J.’s rapid heartbeat and tried to get him to take deep, calming breaths to no success. Nonetheless, the taller boy took Cyrus’s face in his hands and gave him a slow and deep kiss. There was nothing special about it, but the familiarity of it all seemed to calm T.J. down a bit. He exhaled shakily and gave his boyfriend a small smile before leading him out of the room. 

—————— 

“What took you boys so long?” Mrs. Kippen said as she handed them both plates. T.J. didn’t move to take it so Cyrus took both of them and placed them on the table in front of them. “Is everything okay?” Mrs. Kippen looked worried and Cyrus didn’t blame her. T.J. had turned a ghostly shade of white, and he looked like he was about to feint.

“T.J.,” Cyrus said, placing a hand on his bicep.

“Um, mom,” T.J. said, “I have something to tell you.”

“Okay, sweetie,” Mrs. Kippen answered, setting down her plate and looking at her son. “You can tell me anything.”

“I—Cyrus and I are, uh, dating,” T.J. said, following his words with a hard swallow. “I’m gay.”

T.J. looked as though he were about to cry, and his mother rushed to his side to pull him into a hug. “Oh, baby,” she said, “It’s okay. I love you so much.”

T.J. began to cry from relief as he hugged his mother, and Cyrus watched happily. When they pulled away, T.J.’s mother cupped his face in her hands and wiped a stray tear from his eye. “I’m so proud of you,” she said, ruffling his hair. He didn’t pull away like he usually did, though. He let himself bask in the feeling of being loved and accepted. Then, Mrs. Kippen pulled Cyrus into a hug.

—————

About halfway through dinner, T.J. finally found himself at ease. After the initial awkwardness and heightened angst from the previous conversation had worn off, T.J. was finally laughing along with Cyrus and his mother.

Cyrus reached out to take his hand. There was a moment in which T.J. just stared down at their intertwined hands. He smiled sweetly at the gesture as the conversation between his mother and Cyrus went on. It became background noise to the sound of his heart beating out of pure, unadulterated joy and love. He shared a look with his mother. Her smile was filled with pride, as if she was seeing him for the first time again.


End file.
